Free Iona Portal by Robert David MacNeil Page B

molten mass of the globe first formed a solid crust.”
    The road along the shore took a sharp turn to the right, heading inland across the center of the island.  Walking between lush green fields on a spring morning, with sheep calmly grazing on either side of the road, was one of the most peaceful experiences Patrick could remember.  The view was breathtaking in every direction.  Clusters of multicolored wildflowers were splattered across the landscape, while steep, heather-clad hills rose to the north and south. 
    Seeing the look of wonder on Patrick’s face, Michael said, “Do you begin to feel the uniqueness of this place?  There’s really nothing else like it.  Sooner or later it affects everyone who comes here.
    “The Scottish mystic Fiona Macleod wrote that Iona is ‘the one bit of Eden that had not been destroyed.’
     “Historians call Iona, ‘The Light of the Western World.’  You’re no doubt familiar with Thomas Cahill’s popular book, How the Irish Saved Civilization .   Well, the Irish really did save western civilization, and they did it—for the most part—from Iona.  For centuries—during the darkest of the dark ages—Irish monks from Iona went throughout Europe, teaching, and founding schools.
    “And then there are the angels.  Many writers describe Iona as a ‘thin place’ where the material and spiritual planes meet.  Angelic beings seem to pass in and out of our dimension very easily here.  But at least one writer attached a strong warning to that description.  He said that great care must be taken to prevent Iona from becoming a ‘demoniacal centre.’”
    As they neared the center of the island, Michael gestured toward a nondescript mound of grass-covered earth rising to the left.  “That mound is one of the most significant sites on the island.  It’s sometimes called Sithean Mor , ‘the faerie mound.’  Through the Middle Ages it was known by its Latin name, Colliculus Angelorum , or its Gaelic equivalent, Cnoc Angel .  In English that means ‘The Hill of the Angels.’
    “Your cousin Columba used to come to this hill to pray.  It’s recorded that he climbed to the top of that mound, lifted up his hands in prayer, and that ‘citizens of the heavenly country’ flew down to meet with him.
    “Columba had a special relationship with the angels.  Ademnan relates that angels often visited Columba as he prayed.  It was rumored that they revealed to him secrets hidden since the beginning of the world.
    “They say the night St. Columba died, all of Iona was filled with the brightness of angels as thousands of them descended on the island.  One contemporary writer said an immense pillar of fire appeared at midnight at the eastern tip of the island, illuminating the earth like the summer sun at noon."
    An old woman, who had been approaching on the road, saw them looking at Cnoc Angel, and stopped to listen in.   When Michael paused, she stepped closer, tapped his arm with a bony finger, and in a thick Scottish brogue, whispered, “They still come here, you know.  Last month, I saw three of them, right here.”
    Then, pulling her shawl tighter around her head against the morning chill, she added, “And last week, down in the village, Agnes McClean and I was walkin’ outside at dusk and saw two of them angel beings flying over us, headed toward the East.  They flew directly over our heads… and they had a otherworldly glow.”
    Michael pulled out his dog-eared journal and made some quick notes, then got her name and asked if he could speak with her again.
    “Looks like you’ve got your work cut out for you,” Patrick smiled.  He didn’t want to admit it, but being on Iona, he was actually starting to believe the angels might show up.
    They continued across the island.  Topping a rise, Patrick could hardly believe his eyes… the road ahead ran down through the middle of a golf course!   “So this is where my ancestors played golf?”
    “Well,